


Constantly

by Nocoffeenotalking



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Mycroft doing his creepy thing, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Protective Lestrade, Protective Mycroft, and lestrade not having any of his shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:58:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocoffeenotalking/pseuds/Nocoffeenotalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was someone in his flat.<br/>No, Lestrade mentally corrected himself, lingering in the doorway and taking in the somewhat chilled atmosphere of the livingroom, there was someone in his flat, lounging in his chair, and reading his favourite sports-magazine, like he owned the place!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constantly

There was someone in his flat.

No, Lestrade mentally corrected himself, lingering in the doorway and taking in the somewhat chilled atmosphere of the livingroom, there was someone in his flat, lounging in his chair, and reading his favourite sports-magazine, like he owned the place!

He should be used to that by now.

He was, in a way.

Only this wasn't his daily dose of Sherlock, this was a too-calm gentleman in a grey three-piece suit, absently tapping his umbrella on the dusty wooden floor of his flat.

"There you are, detective inspector," the man nodded, smiling pleasantly. "I've been expecting you for some time actually."

Lestrade realised his mouth was still hanging open, his jaw left halfway into the 'What the hell' that never really made it off his lips.

He closed his mouth and went for "Who are you?" instead.

"What is your business with Sherlock Holmes?" came the direct reply, in that same semi-friendly voice.

"Wha- who- well, this is- " as soon as tongue started to pick up to the beat of his brain, Lestrade continued, "None of your damn business"

Apparently, it was very much his business. The look the DI received told him that much, along with a few other things, like 'do you want to re-evaluate your answer?'

Lestrade did, raising his chin slightly, and meeting the other's piercing gaze: "He works for me, he's a consulting detective."

This answer seemed to amuse the man. A shadow of a smile passed over his face, before it returned to the neutral-but-slightly-threatening expression that seemed to come naturally.

"Good, that's good, isn't it?" That was probably supposed to be a reassuring non-threatening smile, Lestrade figured. Well, he could at least appreciate the effort.

"And what is the nature of your," the man wrinkled his nose, "relationship with Sherlock Holmes?"

What?

Lestrade blinked once. "I'm a police officer. I consult him. We're colleagues, kind of." How the hell did that come out defensive?

The man's expression darkened a little more. "He practically lives here."

"I'm aware," Lestrade countered, by no means planning on backing off now. What was the man trying to prove? Lestrade felt a familiar anger that surely wasn't protectiveness and nowhere near possesiveness, build up inside him.

The man didn't respond immediately, measuring Lestrade up, seemingly considering what move to make next. He raised his chin slightly; "I should warn you about-"

"You really shouldn't." Not again, Lestrade thought grimly, eyes narrowing, jaw clenched.

The stranger blinked in surprise. There was a moment of silence while he pinned Lestrade with that vaguely familiar stare.

Lestrade'd had enough; "Listen, who the hell do you-," stopped right there and looked, really looked at his opponent.

He took in the fierce expression, recognised the protectiveness that involuntarily oozed out of the man as he spoke of Sherlock. He took in the arrogance that shone through as the man tilted his head. He took in the light blue eyes, searching him, reading him, dedu-

Oh, god. He closed his eyes. There's two of them…


End file.
